You pass through the door, nodding to Hill as you come to stand beside her at the control desk, immediately searching the screens for any sign of Steve. Knowing Sam and Brock were behind you, you don't bother to look when you hear the door opening again. Hill glances over, nodding to Sam, but in a flash she's standing with her weapon drawn, her aim trained on Brock's head.
"Hey now," Brock holds his hands up defensively, showing he holds no weapon at the ready. "I'm on your side."
Hill stays steady, not moving an inch.
"He's with us," you call over your shoulder, not taking your eyes off the screens.
Hill lowers her weapon, keeping it ready as she returns to her seat at the desk, her fingers tapping away on one of the keyboards.
"Where's everyone else?" You ask, glancing at the time and realizing it's quickly running out.
You hear the door open again; both Hill and Sam draw their weapons, but immediately drop them once the figure enters.
"Hey guys, what's up?" Coulson smiles as he looks around. "Where's Cap?"
He comes to stand beside you and Hill, watching the screens as she turns to face him. "He must still be on the carrier, but he hasn't locked the chip yet."
He purses his lips, looking as worried as you felt. "Nat and Fury took care of Pierce; it's up to Cap now."
You all look at the time again, watching as the seconds count down. Hill curses under her breath before touching her earpiece, "You've got one minute Cap."
There's only silence through your earpiece, it's almost deafening as you strain to hear any sound from Steve, holding your breath, just waiting to hear his voice.
Hill touches her earpiece again, "30 seconds!"
Brock moves forward, his brows furrowed as he pulls out his own earpiece, and hooks it up to the control panel so everyone can hear. Several voices are coming through, and you feel your chest tighten as the room falls still.
"We've reached 3,000 feet, satellites are coming online now."
"Deploy algorithm."
"Algorithm deployed."
"We are go to target."
The screens suddenly light up with a growing number of targets, the whole city seeming to be flooded with red dots, everyone in the room leaning forward as panic starts to set in.
"Target saturation reached."
"All targets assigned."
"Fire when ready."
"Firing in 3… 2… 1…"
You feel Brock's hand slip around yours, but you can't bring yourself to look at him, your eyes glued to the screen in front of you as the countdown hits 0.
Steve's voice suddenly sounds in your ear, "Charley lock." He sounds out of breath, but before you have time to react, all the targets disappear from the screen.
Hill touches her earpiece, "Okay Cap, get outta there." Her fingers speed across the keyboard, initiating a new algorithm that will cause the carriers to target themselves.
Steve's voice sounds again, two breathy words that immediately send you into a heartbroken panic. "Fire now."
You feel tears welling in your eyes, "But Steve-"
"Do it! Do it now!"
You look over to see Hill's fingers hesitantly above the keys, but she initiates the sequence. All across the screen is displayed for you the horrors of each helicarrier firing upon one another, one of which is still holding Steve. You feel a tear run down your cheek, and lower your head. You feel your knees getting weak, and grip the edge of the desk for support, pushing away Brock as he offers a helping hand.
You clench your jaw, and wipe away the tears, refusing to give up this easily as you dart past Sam and Brock out the door, running as fast as you can out onto the tarmac.
You get a good grip on the side of the jet, and hike one foot up, ready to climb inside, but and an arm snakes around your waist and you're dragged back down. You fight to break free, shoving him off and turning back to the jet, but you see one of the carriers explode, and as debris falls, you see a distant limp figure fall down into the water. You feel as though all the air was sucked from your body, and everything else fades away as your legs struggle to keep up with your demands to run faster, faster, FASTER towards the water.
Slowing down at the edge, you feel your lungs burning, but immediately strip off your vest and boots in preparation to dive in. Those familiar arms wrap around your waist again, jerking you back from the water's edge and carrying you away as you scream, pleading to be let go. You feel your knees give out, and can't hold back the tears any longer as both you and Brock slowly lower to the ground, his arms still wrapped around you. You cry out, and give a half-hearted attempt at struggling free from his grasp once more before collapsing to your knees completely. Brock moves in front of you, blocking your view of the water, and strokes your cheek gently.
You slump forward into his arms, and everything seems to fade into the distance, until there's nothing but darkness.
Steve POV:
I hear her screaming in the distance, and see a blurry figure above me, dark against the bright sky, but I don't have the energy to move or talk. He walks away, and I feel myself fading.
…
I blink a few times, adjusting to the bright light and groan internally as I realize I'm in a hospital bed. Glancing to my right, I see Sam sitting patiently in a chair. "On your left." I manage the words out, but my voice still hasn't quite returned to normal.
A smile spreads across his face, and he shakes his head. "She'll be glad you're finally awake."
She?
He leans back in his chair, revealing her, somehow contorted into a chair entirely too small for her, softly snoring every now and then.
Sam's voice brings me back to reality, "She hasn't left your side."
I look back to her, noticing her eyes slowly opening as she unfolds herself from the chair and detangles herself from a rather small blanket. Her hair is a mess, and she's not wearing any makeup, which makes me smile, and I should've known she'd be wearing her Captain America shirt. She rubs her eyes and looks over, finally noticing me.
I feel my lips turn up to a smile. "I'm sorry if I woke you."
Your POV:
You knew he couldn't be gone, not like that, and so you search desperately with the others for hours, until you hear yelling in the distance. You run as fast as your legs will carry you, coming to rest only once you've reached the growing group huddled around the figure laying on the ground. They look up towards you, parting to make room for you to walk through, and that's when you call for the medic.
…
You never leave his side, every day, waiting for any sign of his waking up. You read to him, play music, and sometimes just hold his hand; even falling asleep leaned over the bed some nights. It had been two weeks now, and Hill has been generous enough through all of this to bring you decent food and changes of clothes since you've refused to leave his side other than to quickly shower in the next room at night.
The chairs are too small, but you've mastered the art of sleeping in them by now, although it takes some major stretching both before and after.
You hear whispered conversation in the room, and blink against the bright lights to clear your vision as you unceremoniously attempt to unravel yourself from the chair without falling to the floor. Finally glancing over to Sam, you notice Steve smiling at you, and immediately run to his side, almost knocking Sam out of his chair in the process.
Steve chuckles softly, his voice still a bit raspy. "I'm sorry if I woke you."
You lean forward, kissing all over his face and holding his hand in your own, "I thought you'd never wake up…"
He brushes a few wild strands of hair out of your face, tucking them behind your ear before looking you in the eyes. "Sam said you haven't left?"
Slowly turning your gaze to Sam, you narrow your eyes to convey an icy death glare, at which he holds up his hands defensively and retreats to the door. "I'm gonna leave you two alone."
After the door shuts behind him, you turn your attention back to Steve, who hasn't taken his eyes off you. "You should go back to sleep, you have rings under your eyes."
You scoff, and take Sam's seat, scooting it closer so you can half lean on the bed, your hand still intertwined with Steve's. "I've been waiting forever for you to wake up, I'm damn sure not leaving now that you finally have."
He smiles softly, squeezing your hand, but then his smile fades, and a seriousness sets in across his features, causing you to furrow your brows. "Did you find him?"
You purse your lips. "We looked everywhere Steve… we really did. I'm sure he'll turn up after he has some time to adjust, he's obviously still Bucky deep down or you wouldn't be alive."
He shakes his head, and slowly scoots up into a sitting position. "I meant Brock, did you find him?"
You drop your gaze, studying the lines in his hand as you trace them softly with your fingers. "I did."
He waits silently, expecting you to go into further detail.
You let out an exasperated sigh, and bring your eyes up to meet his again. "I found him, he said he was just following orders and didn't know. He helped us find you."
He smiles, but it doesn't quite meet his eyes. "I'm glad you're back to-"
"We're not back together." You snap, but you know you're being too harsh. "Sorry… I'm just not sure about anything right now."
He opens his mouth hesitantly, and drops his voice to a whisper. "Does he know about what happened… with us?"
You shake your head softly. "I haven't talked to him much; I'm still trying to figure everything out for myself honestly."
He closes his hand around yours, bringing your knuckles to his lips gently and squeezing your hand, and then takes a deep breath. "You belong with him."
You feel a lump in your throat, and lean away from him slightly, "What?"
He rubs his thumb along the back of your hand in soothing circles, and clears his throat before continuing, "I've seen you together, I know how you feel about each other, it's clear to anyone who sees the two of you interacting. I think you should give him a chance to prove he's still that same guy." You smile softly at him, and watch his thumb rubbing smoothly along your hand. "Maybe you shouldn't tell him about what happened though."
A chuckle escapes your lips as you meet his gaze again, "Steven Anita Rogers, are you actually saying I should keep… a SECRET?"
A broad smile pulls at his lips as he shakes his head. "That's not my middle name, but I think this is once instance where it might be best to keep it to ourselves."
You nod softly. "Coulson knows. He knows everything about you. EVERYTHING…"
He laughs and scratches the back of his head. "I think we can trust him."
You squeeze his hand. "You're an amazing man Steve."
A blush creeps in across his cheeks. "Always been my problem, although I admit I replay what happened in my mind quite often."
You playfully slap him on the arm, and allow yourself to at least take his advice into consideration.
…
After Steve had been released from the hospital, he insisted on meeting with Sam to search for Bucky, and pleaded with you until you agreed to take a few days of rest before joining them in the search.
With Shield disbanded, HQ no longer existed, but thank to Hill's new job at Stark Industries, some string were pulled to get the few trusted agents into new secluded houses while the remaining Hydra were hunted down. Hill's new employer was also generous enough to provide living allowances, and vehicles – although his infatuation with you seemed to have earned you the nicer, sportier car.
As you pull up to a random road cutting through what looks to be only dense forest, you double check Hill's directions, and hesitantly turn onto the road, driving for what seems to be near 30 minutes before seeing the house. You cross match the numbers on the house with the ones Hill had given you, and pull up to the garage, pressing the button on your visor and stretching in your seat as you wait for the garage door to lift.
You purse your lips at the sight of a second car already parked in one of the garage spaces. Hill had said you would have a roommate, but she wouldn't tell you who it was, only that they had already made themselves at home during the time you were staying at the hospital with Steve. You throw your car in park, and close the garage door behind you, thankful that all your belongings had already been moved to the house. You now have only the task of introducing yourself, and hoping you get along with your roommate.
Taking a deep breath, you turn the handle, and step inside, instantly greeted by the delicious aroma of what you were hoping was dinner enough for two, followed shortly by muffled cursing. You silently shut the door behind you, and move deeper into the house.
As you approach what seems to be the kitchen, Brock rounds the corner to come face to face with you, causing you both to freeze.
His jaw drops slightly, and he runs a hand back through his hair, "You're home early… I wasn't expecting you for another hour."
You furrow your brows, and size him up suspiciously, "How did you even-"
"Hill called me after she gave you the directions and gave me an ETA."
You nod slowly, finally piecing together why Hill wouldn't tell you with whom you were roomed. "So… you're my roommate then?"
He drops his gaze, seeming hurt by your reaction. "Yeah…"
You let out a long sigh, "Why didn't anyone tell me?"
He brings his eyes up to meet yours again, seeming hesitant as he searches your eyes. "You've had a lot on your mind with Steve and… and I honestly thought you would back out without giving it a chance if you knew."
You chew at your lip, and fiddle with the car keys still in your hand. "Brock I-"
"I'm just finishing up dinner, if you want to get a feel for the house or shower after that long drive, or whatever." He obviously doesn't want to have that conversation yet, not that you can blame him, so you reluctantly agree to leave him to his cooking.
You find the door to the back patio almost immediately, and lean against the railing, looking out at a small lake in what is now your backyard amongst the miles of dense trees that separate you from any neighbors. You close your eyes, feeling the light evening breeze on your skin and through your hair, the fresh air and smell of pine filling your nostrils as you inhale deeply, all of it reminding you of home.
Brock's voice startles you from your trance-like state, "I asked them for a place near water." You turn to face him, seeing him standing in the doorway. "I know how much you like watching the water at the apartment." A sincere smile tugs at the corner of your lips, and he motions back inside. "Dinner is ready."
As you sit at the table, an uncomfortable silence sets in around the two of you. After trying to ignore it for several minutes, you finally give in to breaking the tension yourself. "I see you've learned to cook." He chuckles softly, and you add, "It's actually really good."
He smiles, and meets your gaze for the first time since you've sat down, "I'm glad you like it, they don't exactly deliver out here so I've had to manage on my own."
You feel yourself smiling again, but it fades shortly as that nagging question at the back of your mind surfaces again, "How did we get paired?"
He tenses, and wipes his mouth with a napkin, leaning back in his chair as though he was contemplating whether to tell you. "I asked to be paired with you…"
You had your suspicions, but they were now confirmed, "Brock-"
"I just wanted to be able to look after you, and to know you're safe. I didn't trust anyone else with that…" You're both silent for a few moments, avoiding each other's eye contact and the new information sinks in. "I just wanted to be around you again… I guess I was just being selfish." He gets up from the table, taking both of your now empty plates, and quickly loading them into the dishwasher.
You slowly stand, and turn to face him at the counter, "I know it's been patchy between us… unsure even… since everything, but-"
He holds up his hands, and backs away, "Don't worry about it, and don't worry about me. I'm going to bed." He turns and rounds the corner to leave the kitchen, calling over his shoulder, "If you need anything my room is right down from yours."
You're left alone in the kitchen, the words still stinging slightly as you realize… separate rooms.
You find your own room easily, and glance down the hall to see light coming from under one of the other doors, which you assume to be Brock's. Everything is in your room, just as Hill had said, making it simple to quickly grab clothes and head down the hall for the bathroom.
The hot water feels good on your skin; the hospital showers never seemed to be able to go hot enough for your liking. After what was probably an unnecessarily long shower, you step out, feeling relaxed and much more like yourself. You wipe at the mirror, looking at your streaky reflection and noticing you're wearing one of Brock's shirts he'd left at your place. It all seems so far away, as though it all happened ages ago, but the shirt comforts you somehow.
You pad quietly into the hallway, glancing down towards Brock's door, and noticing the light is no longer on. You frown slightly, vowing to talk to him in the morning as you turn the other direction towards your own room, quietly closing the door behind you and allowing yourself to sink into your familiar bed.
…
You wake in the middle of the night, heart pounding and head aching from whatever you had been dreaming about; it all seems to be fading away before you can recall any details.
Sliding out of bed, you find your way to the kitchen for a glass of water, and upon your return, somehow find yourself standing at Brock's door instead of your own. You hold your hand near the handle, arguing with yourself back and forth, as to whether you would enter or not.
Your hand drops, and you turn away to pad back to your room, but pause halfway. "Fuck it." You mutter under your breath, turning back and quietly opening the door before you have time to change your mind.
You pad silently further into the room, trying not to wake him as you crawl into bed beside him, but his arm moves, lifting up the covers for you. He must have already been awake and seen you come in.
You move closer to him, feeling his warmth as you nuzzle against the crook of his neck and his arms snake around you. "What's wrong?"
You pull back slightly to see his face, "I can never sleep without you; it just doesn't feel right."
His arms tighten around you, and you move your hand to trace along his jaw, your faces slowly drawing nearer until you give in and crash your lips onto his.
He's immediately on top of you, pulling your thigh up on his hip as his lips move hungrily against yours. You feel along his arms, and over his bare chest, and then slide one of your hands to the back of his neck to pull him harder against you.
He lets out a breathy groan, and you feel one of his hands run along your neck, gentle enough not to hurt, but firm enough to earn a moan from you. He smiles that cocky grin of his, and sits up, pulling you up with him to slide your shirt off before pinning you back down against the bed.
His lips move to your neck as his hips grind into you, his breathing heavy, and every now and then his teeth would find the sensitive skin there, causing you to arch your back. His free hand slides down your body, wrapping around to the small of your back, holding you against him as he whispers in your ear. "I've missed you so much."
His lips find yours again before you can answer, and soon you're tugging at his hips, begging for him, moaning his name over until he finally snaps and rips off your underwear.
He buries his face in the crook of your neck, letting out a deep guttural groan as he slowly slides himself inside you, causing you to dig your nails into his back. As he slowly starts to move himself in and out, you can't hold back the moans, but as they get louder, he places a hand over your mouth. You furrow your brows at him questioningly, and he bites his lip as he attempt to catch his breath. "I can't keep going if you keep making noises like that."
You nod, understanding what he meant, and start to apologize, but are cut off by his resumed movements thrusting in and out.
You wrap your legs higher around his waist as he speeds up, leaning your head back and closing your eyes, gripping onto his shoulders in attempts to stay as quiet as you can. A few moans and whimpers escape your lips as you near the edge, and you open your eyes to see him above you, his pupils blown wide as he watches you underneath him.
His lips press to yours, and you feel your body clench as his jerks slightly. He lowers himself beside you, pulling you half onto his chest to wrap his arms around you.
"I was so scared you would leave me for him…"
You sit up slightly, moving your arm beneath yourself to prop up, looking down at him. "There's something between he and I… I can't deny that." You see him stiffen, and diverts his gaze, but you kiss his cheek tenderly, whispering in his ear, "But he's not you." His arms wrap around you tighter, and you kiss his cheek, then his lips before continuing, "I love you more than anything."
"I love you too, and I'm sorry if this is too much all in one night…but I need to show you something." He untangles himself from you, and leans over the side of the bed to pull something out of the side table drawers. When he turns back to face you, he has his fist clenched around something, which you assume to be the object he's referring to. "I got this the day after you came back from that mission… I know I'm dumb but it just felt right when I saw it, and I've held onto it hoping I'd find the right time." He shrugs and watches for your reaction. "I'm tired of waiting, this feels like as good a time as any." He opens his hand to reveal a beautiful diamond ring sitting right in his palm. "Will you marry me?"
